Let's take a walk down the block. It's Fashion Week in Boston, so we are going to walk the runway.

Let's be honest, this isn't exactly a fashion capital of the world. But even if GQ did once rank us as the worst dressed city in America — yes, that happened — that doesn't mean we don't have style.

To find it, we headed to Newbury Street with Jay Calderin, an author and educator who founded Boston Fashion Week in 1995 to make the local fashion scene more visible after moving to Boston in 1989.

“Ironically, it was to get away from my career in fashion in New York City,” Calderin said. “And I was like, Oh, I'm just going to not think about fashion and just live in a nice city.”

It was a good plan — go to the least fashionable place in the country to not think about fashion. But it didn’t work.

“I was surprised,” Calderin said. “Within a couple of months, I had met all these incredible fashion professionals, designers in the beauty industry, incredible fashion photographers, models from several agencies. It was this community. But I think because the reputation was so strong, it didn't get the visibility that it really deserves.”

In 2017, an illustration in The Boston Globe depicted an evolution of our style as some variation of a button-down, khakis, puffer vest, and these sad-looking brown loafers. In my experience, we don't all dress like we're going camping all the time. And even for those of us who do, it's a reflection of who we are.

“Bostonians have always had a sense of style. But I think that boiled wool Beacon Hill kind of reputation has been overtaken by the fact that more and more Bostonians are exploring fashion as a way to express themselves,” Calderin said. “And I think part of it is the fact that we're such an international city."

Two women standing on a sidewalk, one holding a radio microphone. Behind them are brownstones converted into shops.
Paris Alston interviews Lee Ann Hakl, who is wearing a Talbots maxi dress.
Jacob Garcia GBH News

Milling about the many stores and shops on Newbury, we found hundreds of fashionistas in their own right, from the practically inclined in Talbots and fashion-avoidant in Amazon and Costco to a guy with some spiky Louboutins.

“It's just luxury,” said Victor Bonillas, wearing black Christian Louboutin boots covered in sharp studs. “It's not really comfortable, you know what I mean?”

A woman and a man standing in a city street.
Paris Alston interviews Victor Bonillas on Newbury Street.
Jacob Garcia GBH News

Calderin says this is one part of the city where you'll find a little bit of everything, from luxury brands like Hermes and Chanel, which are closer to the public garden, to local boutiques like Soo Dee and Cattivo, not to mention fast fashion retailers like Zara and H&M, which attract a younger crowd.

We met Megan Sharma, who was wearing a pink sundress and white cowboy-style boots.

“I thought it would be like a nice change of pace, something western,” Sharma said. “And then these pink earrings, it's like the same color scheme. And they're from Buffalo Exchange. I like to keep up with the trends and just look good.”

Two women standing in a city street. One is holding a microphone, the other wearing a pink sundress, white cowboy boots, and carrying a pink umbrella.
Paris Alston interviews Megan Sharma on Newbury Street.
Jacob Garcia GBH News

Calderin said even people who aren't concerned with fashion still have personal style, and our clothing is a reflection of our mood.

“For instance, on a rainy day, either you want to kind of melt into the day and go dark colors and just like practical; or you're feeling good and you just want to wear the brightest colors possible — you want to be a beacon during the day,” Calderin said.

That worldview extends to building out a wardrobe.

“When it comes to buying the things that we want, I think there's a range,” Calderin said. “You might want to do really high-end things and investment pieces, more craft, maybe a little fast fashion sometimes. I think it's more a matter of what we want to say about ourselves that particular day, because when we go leave our homes, it's this tool that's projecting a message right away.”

Some people wear a variation on the same theme every day. Calderin is one of them.

“I am in the fashion industry, but I wouldn't call myself a fashion person,” he said. “For me, it's a chore: jackets, T-shirts, jeans, sneakers. But where I have fun, it's like socks or scarves or eyeglasses, you know, things that I can do where I can add a little color and, you know, say a little bit more about myself.”

No judgement from me. A uniform is key, he said.

“If your goal isn't to be the focus, then it's really about just making sure you're comfortable, making sure you've got pockets, you know, like all the practical stuff,” he said.

The pandemic changed how many of us see our personal style. For instance, I used to agonize over the perfect pair of shoes to go with an outfit. These days I own a pair of Crocs — and I love them.

Calderin said the pandemic shook up the industry, too, pushing brands and consumers to think more sustainably, be it by choosing clothing that uses fewer resources, shopping at thrift stores, or going through your own closet.

“Ninety-five, if not more, percent of us don't need another thing,” Calderin said. “What we have right now in most of our wardrobes, in theory could last us a very long time. This idea of giving garments another life, like giving them a history, showing them new places, having them be part of new experiences and new memories — I think that kind of thinking changes the purchase and changes how you treat the clothes too.”